


If I Wasn't An Auror I'd Be...

by vaderina



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Bad clowns, Clowns, Crack, Just bad at being a clown, M/M, Not malicious, background Gramander
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-14
Updated: 2018-06-14
Packaged: 2019-05-23 08:17:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14930592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vaderina/pseuds/vaderina
Summary: To fund raise for the new MACUSA Magical Creatures Reserve there is a fancy dress day where employees can dress as the profession they would have been if they hadn't ended up where they were.





	If I Wasn't An Auror I'd Be...

**Author's Note:**

> For a visual aid: https://seasons-gredence.tumblr.com/post/174857582518/for-your-colin-farrell-dressed-as-a-clown-needs which inspired this story in every single way.
> 
> This is for anyone out there who needs a bit of silliness in their life right now.

The day had been hotly anticipated by the whole department. It was in aid of charity and every member of the department had either gained sponsorship from friends and family or paid a little money themselves towards MACUSA’s first Magical Creatures Reserve. In exchange, for one Friday, they got to dress up as the profession they would have taken if they hadn’t become an auror or support staff in the department.

Most people were fairly usual, a few people were in the white overcoats of healers, Fontaine was dressed modestly and announced he would have probably become a teacher at Ilvermorny. Delgado pranced through the bullpen in a quodpot player’s outfit and merrily declared he would have been on the national team if only his dedication to the safety of the population at large didn’t compel him to be so selfless and dedicate himself to being an auror. O’Brien turned up in everyday clothes and declared herself a journalist while Tina turned up as a librarian. Inexplicably Newt arrived in a vibrant ballerina’s outfit, made up to look ready for the grand opening of a major piece.

Uncharacteristically Percival was late. Jokes went around saying he’d rather be dead than be anything apart from his job. A rumour whipped around that he was actually dressed as Picquery because he’d be president. Or that he was dressed in rags because he would be homeless, his skills so suited for one particular job only. Shocked silence descended on the room when the door opened with a cheerful squeak and Percival, in full clown outfit and makeup toddled through the room. Nobody dared breathe as with every other step there was a comical squeak and as the door to his office closed a cream pie sailed through the air and landed on the floor with a splat. When Queenie (dressed in a sharp suit as a fashion designer) leaned over to clear it up it burst into sparkling flames and mice skeleton scuttled under tables as she jumped back in shock.

People started talking in hushed voices around corners, in the communal kitchen, even in bathrooms. Percival was a clown. The shock and almost pity was unprecedented. The squeak with every other step seemed to become more morose and broken with each passing moment. Queenie had asked him if he needed his squeaker looking at and Percival shook his head with a small sad pout.

“What kind of clown would I be if I couldn’t fix my own squeaking?” he’d asked and Queenie gave him half her pastry out of pity.

It was Delego who walked in on him in the small break room trying to juggle apples. Only two of them and he kept dropping one, sometimes both despite his best effort. In an attempt to not comment Delego began prattling on about how Marnie down in Wands Permit was dressed as an auror and how she had always hoped she’d make the grade but never dared ask. Percival simply nodded, put a squeaky nose of Delego mid-sentence and walked out leaving behind two bruised apples which turned into charmed toy doves when Delego approached them.

The moment Percival’s trike lost a wheel on his way to a meeting O’Brien helped him pick up the pieces. Nobody dared look Percival in the eye, the clown make-up looked sadder than ever with the tear tracks extending down his cheeks and the perpetual sad tick of his mouth seemed more pronounced. People redoubled their efforts to finish their reports and maybe try and bring a small smile to Percival’s face. After all, nobody liked a sad clown.

After his meeting with the President who was dressed as a shop sales assistant, Percival returned to his desk to find not only reports due that day but also a plethora of overdue reports and several turned in early too. He almost looked happy until a cream pie flopped out of his sleeve and all over his desk. Cleaning it up was a simple matter but nobody dared look at his face.

At lunchtime Percival sat in his office, the door was open and people watched him try to make balloon animals. Most of the balloons popped, some that survived looked like the creature had been hit by a bus. Newt sat next to Percival and they quietly chatted. Occasionally Percival almost smiled. When Newt got up to get food Percival stayed behind and continued his balloon animal massacre. Taking the opportunity O’Brien and Fontaine approached him. They sat in the chairs in his office and prodded the sad excuses of balloon creatures with forced smiles.

“All going okay boss?” Fontaine asked. He got a nod and a three legged giraffe made of a blue balloon was placed in front of him. With a slow, low squeak worthy of the worst of horror films the head began to unravel until it popped and it became a three legged decapitated abomination.

“It looked good, maybe twist the head a little more next time?” O’Brien tried to encourage him. She got a partially blown up orange balloon placed in front of her.

“It’s a worm,” Percival explained and they sat and watched it become flatter and flatter until all the air was gone from it. “Guess it stayed in the sun too long.”

There was nothing left to say about the balloon creatures after that. O’Brien began talking and in the end they chatted about pay rises, departmental dynamics, and a reshuffle of where people ought to be seated in the bull pen and patrol timetables. It was perhaps the most productive lunch hour they’d ever had.

In the afternoon there was one final meeting before everyone got to go home an hour early. Percival stood at the top of the table, his large shoes stuck out form beside the table. Everybody settled in and the meeting began.

“Finally,” Percival said after everything on the agenda was covered, “one last question of a more personal nature. Would I have made a good clown?”

People clamoured to reassure him that he’d have been great but Newt’s voice was heard loud and clear by everyone.

“You’d make a shit clown Percival. Stick to what you’re good at.” A collective gasp went up.

“You can’t say things like that Newt!” Fontaine cried out. “You just need a bit more practice boss. To perfect those balloon animals and maybe work on that juggling. But if that is what makes you happy don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”

“That is mighty kind of you to say,” Percival smiled, “I appreciate all your loyalty and desire to make me happy. However, I must admit, the joke is on you.” As he spoke Percival produced a couple of balloons from his pocket and blew them up when he finished speaking. His hands worked deftly on twisting them while Newt laughed quietly at the back of the room.

“I would make an awful clown, Newt is right. However I was not a clown today,” he placed a perfectly made balloon crown on his head. “If I wasn’t in my job I would be a secret agent, mining information from my surroundings through any means. Thanks to today I have much more of an insight into team morale, attitudes and how this department hangs together.”

Crown firmly in place, Percival pulled out seven apples from up his sleeve while the aurors gawped at the trick. Juggling them all Percival marched out of the room whistling a circus song.

**Author's Note:**

> More stupidity over on tumblr - @ladyoftheshrimp


End file.
